


A Swiftly Tilting Planet

by 4fandoms4ever



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: (yeah that's weird I know), Academy Era, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Break Up, Canon Compliant, F/M, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Getting Back Together, Romance, Spoilers, Star Trek 2009 - Freeform, Star Trek: Into Darkness, Starfleet Academy, unrealistic dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 04:12:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10677435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4fandoms4ever/pseuds/4fandoms4ever
Summary: That's the way things become clear. All of the sudden. And then you realize how obvious they've been all along. -Madeleine L'Eagle





	A Swiftly Tilting Planet

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm supposed to be working on other writing right now, but this kind of just...happened. It's also highly unrealistic, as my main characters don't discover each other's name until like the end, and there's no way that would ever happen in real life but...  
> It's cute anyway. I hope y'all enjoy.

It’s one those low key, impromptu parties that break out in the dorms when everyone starts going stir-crazy from Finals. Personally Jim is chill with finals—chiller than chill actually—but Gary drags him out of their dorm and into the hallway where people are drinking beer and fighting over pizza and Jim admits that he could use a bit of a breather.

He feels relieved that it isn’t one of those wild, slightly less than legal parties that tend to break out across campus—(everyone is too exhausted to do much but fall asleep in the hallway or eat pizza right now)--because even though finals don’t stress him out, he somehow doesn’t feel inclined to get caught up in one of those.

Because contrary to popular opinion, James Kirk actually cared about his grades and reputation with his superiors. Jim had a lot of expectations to live up to and the shadow of a great man to escape from, and getting his ass busted over illegal consummation and misconduct was not the way to go. Not that anyone believed him anyway, Jim moodily thinks, as Gary swiped them some beer.  

With a weary sigh, Jim leans against the wall and glumly stared at the bottle Gary had so nicely shoved into his hand.

“You look Finals are traumatizing you,” an amused British voice interrupts his dismal musings. Jim glances up. Sitting on the floor across him, a petite blonde gives him a tired smile.

“Surprisingly no,” he replies, wearily. “Just my dormmate.” He glances over at Gary who is hitting on Galia. Jim will have to warn Gary about that. “He seems to think I’m overworking myself.”

 “He may have a point,” she replies, eyes twinkling. “You look worse off than me.”

“Thanks,” he dryly replies, eliciting a laugh from her.

“Trust me, this place has _nothing_ on Freshers weeks. You lot have it easy.”

Jim decides not to mention the incident when he got his Xenolinguistics Masters in Tokyo four years ago. Talk about an academic nightmare.

“Trust me, I’m thankful,” he replies. “I don’t think I could handle each term starting that wild. It’s hard enough as it is to study for Finals, let alone trying to get a head start at the beginning of the year.”

“Science Track?” she asks.

“Command,” he corrects. “I know, not as demanding as Science, but I’m trying to fit a double major into three years.”

She looks slightly dubious. “Three years? What’s the rush?”

“I was inspired.” He gives a cocky smile.

She snorts. “Or dropped on your head.”

“You have no idea.”

She laughs.

“What about you?” he asks, curious. “What are you studying,” he clarifies at her questioning look.

“Second year, Science Track,” she replies. “Weapons Technology and Molecular Biology.”

Jim feels vaguely impressed with her. “Those are two very different areas,” he replies, intrigued. “What gives?”

“I don’t want to limit my talents or gifts. My father has always been fascinated in Weapons Tech, so he encouraged me to major in it at the Academy. However, Molecular Biology happens to be my calling and a subject that I frankly enjoy studying more. I couldn’t choose between the two, so I thought—”

“—why not both?” Jim finishes.

She smiles. “Exactly.”

“So what’s the dream?” he asks, taking a sip of his drink. “Deep Space, Federation Base, Starfleet Intelligence…?”

“Deep Space,” she replies, with no hesitation. “There’s so much we don’t know about what’s here, what’s on Earth, but I still want to see a bit of the universe before I ground myself here. I want to be on the Federation’s Flagship.”

Jim smiles fondly. “The _Enterprise_.”

She inclines her head. “What about you? Command Track…what’s your focus?”

“Tactical Officer,” Jim replies. “I have a second major in Linguistics and a minor in Engineering, but my primary focus will be Tactical Officer.”

This time the blonde looks more impressed than dubious. “And this is your first year?”

“Academically it’s my second…technically,” he replies, tilting his head. “I already knew most of the curriculum before I enlisted,” he explains when she continues to stare at him. “It’s actually not that big of a deal.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You’re one of those _geniuses_ who was a child prodigies, aren’t you,” she says, exasperatedly.

Jim throws his head back and laughs. “Says the woman with a double major in Molecular Biology and Weapons Tech.”

She laughs with him. “Fine, you may have a point there.” She smiles at him. Jim realizes that he likes her smile—it’s an unusual smile that starts on the corner of her mouth and spreads as her eyes crinkle and she ducks her head bashful.

The two of them jump as one of the Academy Professors storms into the hallway, yelling about curfews and whatnot. Jim glances at her, as the two of them hurry to make themselves scarce.

“I should be heading back,” he says. “Essays to write and all that.”

She nods in agreement. “I’ll see you around, yeah?” she says, over her shoulder.

“Hopefully when we’re free from this torture that is Finals,” he replies with a smirk.

She laughs and disappears into the crowd, leaving him with an odd sort of feeling that isn’t quite sad, but not happy either.

It’s only when Jim is back in his dorm room, staring down at his PADD disinterestedly, that he realizes that he never got her name.

* * *

 

The initial smugness that Jim had felt after setting Gary and Janice up has left now that he can’t be around either of them without things getting gross. Like _way_ gross.

Don’t get him wrong, Gary was one of his closest friends and now that he was dating Janice, her crush on Jim seems to have evaporated—( _thank god, because Jim liked Janice but he didn’t_ like _like Janice)_ —and the two are actually a really good match.

Between tiptoeing around his dorm every time Gary and Janice have a “study session” and watching the two of them make moony eyes at each other, Jim is going to kill himself.

So it is with great trepidation that Jim allows himself to be dragged by the pair them to a bar just outside of campus. He really didn’t want to get involved with whatever they were doing or play third wheel.

 He feels greatly relieved to find Bones there, until he notices him talking to Christine Chapel. …That was a can of worms better left closed, so Jim takes the first opportunity he can get and ducks out towards the door, hoping to escape without any of his friends noticing.

Unfortunately moving quickly and crowded bars is never a great mix and Jim finds himself colliding abruptly with a solid body. Before he can even blink, he’s fallen back onto a chair hard with a petite woman sprawled across him.

A pair of familiar blue eyes peer up at him dazedly before he hears an amused laugh.

“Well, it seems that you actually _did_ survive Finals,” the familiar British blonde says.

Oh. _Oh_.

Jim had only talked with her fifteen minutes a year ago, but he vividly remembers every second of it. He had been both intrigued and amused by her attempts to make conversation with him and had been absolutely impressed by her double major.

Apparently he’d made an impression on her as well, if her remembering him counted for anything.

Laughing, Jim pushes her to her feet and follows. “I told you Finals didn’t faze me,” he replies. “And apparently you’ve survived as well, even if you _are_ specializing in Weapons Tech and Molecular Biology.”

Her eyes sparkle. “You _do_ remember me,” the Brit— _(that’s what he’s been calling her in his head anyway)_ —replies, delighted. “Well now I _am_ impressed.”

“Eidetic memory,” he replies airily. 

She shakes her head. “Sure,” Brit humors him.

“No really. I never forget a face,” Jim replies with a grin. He glances over to where Gary and Janice are aggressively flirting. “Look, I’d love to chat but—”

She follows his gaze, instantly recognizing Gary. “Oh that’s your dormmate, right?” She glances from Jim to Gary and then an understanding look dawns across her. “He dragged you out again didn’t he.” Her lips twitch into a smirk.

“Something like that,” Jim admits. “I think he’s trying to set me up with someone. Again.” He scowls. “I’m perfectly capable of finding my _own_ dates.”

Brit laugh. “Are you asking me out then?”

Jim pauses. “Do you _want_ to go out?”

“I say we blow this joint and make tracks for a tea shop,” she replies, in a dreadful imitation of his Midwestern accent.

“Very British of you,” Jim replies seriously, trying to imitate her own accent. “I know just the place.”

* * *

 

Jim somehow finds himself in an antique themed coffee shop, sipping some dreadful concoction that Brit seems fond of. He hides a wince and continues drinking it, but of course she sees right through him and laughs.

“You can just try coffee, you know,” she says with a grin. “Even if it means you’re an uncultured Californian.”

“Not from California,” he says, wrinkling his nose at the tea.

She frowns. “But your accent…”

“Picked it up when I came here. I like to blend in,” he explains. “I’m originally from Iowa.”

Brit frowns, clearly trying to remember where Iowa was. No surprise, considering how drastically the North American continent had changed in the last century.

“It’s somewhere in the middle,” he says, waving vaguely with his hands for emphasis. “It’s actually where the _Enterprise_ is being built.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh, I thought it sounded familiar,” Brit says. “Did you ever see it?”

“The _Enterprise_? Yeah a couple of times. My mom was Chief Engineer on it for a good while.”

Brit’s brow wrinkles slightly. “So you’re mom’s an engineer? Well that explains the minor in Engineering.”

“Pretty much,” Jim replies with a grin. “I remember when I was like seven she took my brother and me out to the garage and _made_ us rebuild the car engine from scratch after we accidentally blew it up.”

“You blew up a car engine.”

“We were experimenting. Not important. The point is, she was crazy passionate about her work, so it’s just kind of natural for me. I’ll bet Sam could get a degree in engineering without even trying.”

“Sam?”

“My brother,” Jim clarifies. He pauses, realizing that he’s revealed far more than he’d intended. “What about you?” he asks, changing the subject. “Where are you from?”

“Isn’t my accent kind of obvious?” Brit teases. “I’m actually from New York,” she admits, “But when I was a child my father was stationed on a base in London, so I grew up there. When I turned eighteen I convinced him to let me move back here so I could further my experience and education in the Science Field.” 

“Sounds reasonable,” he agrees. “So. Why Starfleet?”

“Why _not_ Starfleet?” she counters.

“With your talents you could’ve gone anywhere. Why a Federation Exploration Unit?”

“It’s a family thing. What about you, Iowa?” Brit asks. “How’d you end up here?”

“Bit of a family thing as well. Both my parents and my brother were in Starfleet. That and…well…I was inspired.”

“So you said,” she replies, sipping her tea. “Care to elaborate?”

“Not really.”

“I thought not.” Brit glances at her comm. “It’s getting late. I should be heading back.”

Jim nods, grimacing. It’s selfish of him to keep her, but he wishes they could stay the entire night talking. “I’ll see you again?”

She smiles. “Keep an eye out for me a tea shops and bars.”

* * *

 

Jim stumbles back into his dorm somewhere around 0100 having spent the first night with a woman without sex being involved. He feels exhausted, but a strange warm feeling that he can’t explain has crept into his chest.

Gary moans pathetically as Jim flops down on the bed.

“I think I’m drunk,” his friend groans.

Jim laughs. “Did Janice ditch you?”

“Yes. She has simm test tomorrow” Gary grumbles. “And where were _you_? You’re supposed to be there to keep me from being hungover the next day.”

“Had a date with a hot blonde,” Jim replies airily.

Gary blinks up at him. “Now I know I’m drunk. You? On a _date_?”

“Yeah yeah shut up,” Jim mutters, kicking off his boots and diving under the covers, fully dressed. “It was a spur of the moment thing.”

Gary attempts to sit up, but ends up flopping back down, looking more pathetic than ever. “So who is this hot blonde?”

Jim stops. “I knew I forgot something,” he mutters under his breath.

“What?”

“I think I forgot to ask her.”

“James!” Gary says, aghast. “It’s one thing to have a one night stand with someone you don’t know, but to go on a _date_!”

“Not so loud,” Jim protests. “I have a headache.”

“ _I_ have a headache,” his friend snorts. “Sometimes I really can’t believe you.”

Jim silently agrees but knows better than to tell Gary that. “Go to sleep Gary, you’ll feel better in the morning.”

As Gary’s loud breathing slowly turns into snoring, Jim finds himself unable to sleep.

He had already run into her twice in two years. Perhaps his famous luck would grant him a third chance.

* * *

 

He has a drink in one hand and a comm in the other and is staring dismally at both when someone sits down next to him at the bar and orders a Cardassian Sunrise. It’s a woman, he can tell from her voice and the glance he gets from his peripheral vision. He turns to her to deliver some cheesy pick up line when she beats him to it.

“What’s a good lookin’ guy doing in a dump like this?”

He starts slightly and then grins. “You know, I’ve actually never been on the receiving end of that one. What’s the proper response?”

Brit leans forward casually and firmly presses her lips to his.

Jim almost pulls away in shock. Almost.

Britain pulls away looking smug. “Generally you’re supposed to give your reasoning for wallowing away in this cheap dive.” She drops her smile. “What’s going on?”

He gives a disbelieving snort, running a hand through his hair. “That obvious?”

She doesn’t reply. Jim sighs.

“Family issues I guess,” he replies, looking back down at his comm.

She grimaces. “Your brother?”

“My _mom_.”

“Ah. The Engineer,” she says, remembering their previous conversation about her. “She giving you trouble, then?”

“Not her fault actually,” Jim says, knocking back his drink. “Today’s the anniversary of…” He stops, unsure of how to go on. “It’s not a good day for our family.” He swallows hard, blinking back the sudden moisture in his eyes. The alcohol must be getting to him.

Britain puts a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” he mumbles.

“I still wish there was something I could do,” she says, softly.

Her blue eyes are so close he realizes that she has golden flecks scattered through the misty pools. His eyes drop downwards towards her soft, pink lips. They part slightly as she realizes his intention.

Their lips meet again for the second time that night.

 

 

 “Well, if it isn’t Iowa,” a hushed—( _they’re in a library_ )—voice breaks him out of his coma inducing study frenzy. 

He looks up from his stack of PADDS and comes face to face with…

“Well, if it isn’t the Brit,” he replies with a grin, gesturing for her to sit. “Finally resurfaced from the labs?”

“We doctors aren’t _that_ bad,” she protests with a quiet laugh, sitting down next to him. “And generally _you_ seem to be the one over studying. Every time I’ve run into you, you’ve been dragged out of a study session by your dormmate.”

“Guilty as charged,” Jim laughs. “But trust me, I’m not that much of a bookworm. You just happen to catch me at the wrong times.”

“I didn’t say that was a bad thing. Most every guy I know who’s in the Command Track isn’t that serious about what they’re doing here. It’s refreshing to see someone so dedicated.”

Jim knows there’s a light blush dusting his face, but fights to keep it down. “You’d be the first to say that,” he finally says.

Brit pauses, glancing over Jim’s shoulder. “Look this might be a bad time, but would you like too—”

“I’d love to. I need a break anyway.”

* * *

 

 “So, what’re you studying?” Brit asks. She found him on a sunny weekend, reading a PADD as he lazily strolls across the Academy grounds.

“Take a look.” He hands his PADD over to her.

Brit grimaces in sympathy. “The Maru,” she says. “I wouldn’t worry about it. No one—”

“Passes,” Jim finishes, irritably. “I know that.”

“Well you don’t have to get so huffy.”

“I know…I just. Sorry,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t like losing.”

She gives a tentative smile. “No one does.”

“I _really_ don’t like to lose.”

“No win scenarios?”

He turns and looks at her sharply. “…Yes.”

“Well then.” She hands his PADD back. “Maybe you’ll pass it.”

“You think so?”

Brit shrugs. “If someone can I suppose it’s you. Mind you, I hope you don’t get disappointed if you don’t. Your chances are very unlikely.”

“If I have to take it twice I will,” Jim grumbles.

“It’s not as if you have anything to prove to anyone,” Brit replies, looking at him oddly.

“You would be surprised,” he mutters.

“What?”

“Nothing. So, tea shop or bar?”

* * *

“So, still receiving trouble from your dormmate?” she asks, sipping her scotch. Jim frankly thinks it’s too early in the evening for that kind of drink, but admires her enthusiasm.

“Nah. Janice keeps him in line now.”

“Girlfriend?”

“Unfortunately.” Jim grimaces. “So how about you?”

“What about me?”

“Seeing anyone?” he asks, casually.

Brit gives him a coy smile. “Yeah actually. Nice guy. Blond hair, blue eyes. Smart. Kinda cocky. You’d like him.”

Jim nearly spits out his drink. “Is that so?” he asks, eyes watering.

She smirks slightly. “How about you?”

“It’s complicated. My object of affection didn’t clue me into our dating until recently. Like five seconds ago recently.”

She laughs at him. “Sounds like a real keeper.”

“Well she has her moments.”

Brit whacks his arm lightly.

“So…” he says, attempting to be smooth. “Wanna get outta here?”

* * *

 

They somehow back it back to his apartment, though how he’ll never know. The two of them are frantically kissing and groping each other as they stumble through his door. Thankfully, Gary is spending the night with Janice, leaving them free to do what they like.

After being slightly manhandled towards the couch, Britain somehow ends up straddling his lap, fingers wandering all over his neck and shoulders. He feverishly kisses and bites his way aggressively down her neck, kneading the soft skin under her shirt frantically. She moans slightly as his hands dip lower, brushing her hip bone.

“This is a bad idea,” he moans into her mouth.

“You started it,” she replies, as she rapidly unbuttons his shirt. “Best bad idea you’ve ever had.”

He huffs a laugh against her neck and allows her to peel his shirt off before getting a start on hers. His hands fumble slightly with her zipper, eliciting a laugh from her. Smiling, she obligingly helps him out, slipping her uniform off and diving down to get a start on her boots. As soon as she’s finished, he pulls her back towards him.

“You sure about this?” Jim asks breathlessly, as his hands linger on her bra strap.

“Shut up and kiss me, Iowa,” Brit grumbles.

“Somehow I _knew_ you’d be demanding in bed.”

“Not in bed yet,” she reminds him, pulling him up and pushing him towards his bedroom door.

“That’s a problem,” he says, thoughtfully, guiding her towards the bed.

“What’re you going to do about it?” Brit challenges.

He rather thinks she likes his reply, if her moaning is to be taking into account. He rather likes it too. _  
_

* * *

 

“I still can’t believe you haven’t seen the _Princess Bride_ ,” he rants, much to her amusement. “How am I dating someone who hasn’t seen the _Princess_ _Bride_?”

“You might want to rethink your priorities,” she replies, dryly.

“Nuh, uh uh. It’s a classic, Brit. A _classic._ ”

“You are impossible,” Brit laughs, rolling her eyes. “Fine. I’ll watch the _Princess Bride_ with you.”

* * *

 

“Where do you think we go when we die?”

“The morgue.”

“I’m serious, Iowa.”

“So am I.”

* * *

 

“Is it weird that I’ve known you two years and I’ve never met any of your friends?” Brit says over breakfast.

“Strange how both of our roommates are missing every time we hang out,” Jim agrees.

“Think we should do something about it?”

“Pass up a chance to be alone with you?” He grins roguishly. “I think not.”

“I still can’t believe I’m dating you.”

* * *

 

“Have you ever thought about how scary Earth is?” he asks, drunkenly.

She snorts, taking a swig of beer. “Not quite sure what you mean,” she mutters.

“I mean, think about it. We’re falling through space at like who knows how fast and the only thing keeping us on this planet I gravity and if gravity didn’t exist we’d be thrown out into space at a light speed or somethin’.”

Brit gives him a Look. “I think that’s enough alcohol for you.”

* * *

 

 “I wonder how Gary and Janice plan to get the same posting,” he says, as the two of them watch the sun setting over the ocean.

Brit leans back onto the sand, looking up at the orange sky thoughtfully.

“Some people request the same ship,” she says at last. “But usually only if they’re married.”

Jim rolls over onto his side. “You’re shooting for the _Enterprise_ , right?”

“Yeah. Why?”

He rolls back over, looking up at the sky. “It’s nothing.”

* * *

 

He might be in love with her.

Jim doesn’t know her name and _he_ _might be in love with her._

* * *

 

He always messes things up, he always fails, he never keeps a friendship long term, let alone a relationship, and he always runs away. It’s a universal constant with him, not matter where Jim Kirk goes, he spreads his famously bad luck with him.

Riverside and Tarsus are prime examples.

It’s a wonder he’s lasted this long in a relationship, even if he _does_ care about the person he’s dating.

Jim knows it’s going to fall apart. Whether by his hands or someone else.

* * *

 

He fails the Maru. _Twice_.

Jim Kirk picks himself back up and begins studying feverishly for the next one.

* * *

 

 “Somehow I feel like you’ve been avoiding me,” she says, sounding a bit annoyed as she enters his apartment.

Jim doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then, “How long are we going to keep doing this?”

“Doing what?”

Jim huffs a laugh. “This,” he gestures between the two of them. “ _What_ are we doing?”

Brit gapes at him. “I…what do _you_ think we’re doing?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know,” he whispers. “I don’t know what _I’m_ doing.”

“Listen Iowa—”

“There. That. We’ve been seeing each other for _months_ and what do we know about each other? I don’t know your _name_.”

She’s silent. “Maybe we should stop seeing each other,” she says at last.

It’s strange how Jim feels both relieved and shattered. “We both graduate in two months,” he says at last. “If we get the same posting…”

She shakes her head sadly. “This was fun while it lasted. But I think we both know you’re not looking for something long term.”

It was strange, he thinks as he watches her leave, how when he met her he’d been thinking about how no one actually understood him.

He’d thought when he met her that she had.

* * *

 

Galia is there to pick him up when he falls apart—she is one of his best friends after all.

Jim somehow feels like he’s cheating in more ways than one.

* * *

 

The Kobayashi Maru. Commander Spock. Suspension. _Enterprise._ Nero. Narada. Pike. Vulcan. Delta Vega. Old Spock. Emotional Compromise. Captain.

It all happens so fast Jim forgets about her.

* * *

 

They’re back on Earth. Jim is exhausted from the many debriefings and meetings he’s been pulled into, but finally he finds himself back in his dorm.

He’s about to fall into bed when his comm chirps.

 _Are you alright_? – _Brit_

He stares at it for a long moment. No. No he’s not alright and he won’t be for a while, not with the near-death experiences replaying themselves in his head, or the multiple beatings he took, or the fact that he was unable to stop another genocide. He’s not alright and frankly he’s not sure if he ever will be.

 _I’m fine,_ is his reply.

* * *

 

He sees her after the ceremony. He’s out of his uniform and back in his civvies, but he’s pretty sure she knows who he is _now_ —how couldn’t she? His face is literally on every news channel in the nation—but she doesn’t let on.

She gives him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before disappearing into the crowd.

* * *

 

“So whatever happened to that girl you were dating?” Gary asks.

Jim, who has been watching Gary closely—( _his eyes are freaking_ silver _right now okay_ )—feels himself start slightly.

“What girl?”

“Aw come on, Jim. Everyone knows you were secretly seeing someone.”

“I was unaware that it was a secret,” Jim says, frowning.

“Well you certainly never introduced her to me. Why else wouldn’t you have?”

Jim is silent. Why hadn’t he?

* * *

 

He isn’t sure how everything has fallen apart the way it has and he’s definitely unsure of how to pull everything back together. On top of that, he’s exhausted, pissed and on the verge of a migraine and Spock won’t shut up about mission parameters and morals and things Spock really shouldn’t be concerning himself with.

He’s about to fire a scathing remark at the guy to just shut him up, when a familiar voice stops him.

“Captain Kirk?”

His head snaps around and lands on…

Blonde. Blue eyes with golden flecks. Petite. Short hair. Wide smile. Secrets hidden behind that kind face. 

It’s her.

“Science Officer Wallace,” she says, offering him a nervous smile.

Jim just _stares_ at her.

 Spock and Bones are staring at him, but the only thing that registers is…well… _her_.

Moments flash by in a second. A soft laugh in a deserted library. The taste of tea in a strange smelling shop. Moans of pleasure on a hot, summer evening. Long walks across campus, theories discussed, hypothesizes traded, complaints, encouragement, teasing, laughing, kissing, touching…

It’s been at least a year since he last saw her—after the Narada, during the celebrations—but the nervous fire flooding his senses like adrenaline is just as strong, just as potent. It’s her, she’s _here_ , and she has a _name_ —

“I’ve been assigned to the _Enterprise_ by Admiral Marcus.” Officer Wallace goes on still acting as if she doesn’t know him which…well _hurts_.

 Brit hands him her transfer file and. Jim can’t stop the small half smile that curls in the corner of his mouth before he takes the PADD glances over them.

 _Carol Wallace_ is the name that jumps out at him, underneath a list of impressive credentials and accomplishments. Jim had expected nothing less of Brit, but actually seeing it on _paper_ …

“You requested an additional Science Officer?” Spock asks, sounding put out.

“I wish I had,” Jim says snidely. “Lieutenant Carol Wallace,” he says out loud. “Doctorate in Applied Physics, specializing in Advanced Weaponry,” he finishes slowly. Molecular Biology is conspicuously _missing_.   

Jim looks at her out of his peripheral vision, watching her shift uncomfortably as he speaks. She’s hiding something, Jim knows her well enough to know that. And judging from the way she won’t quite meet his eye, she knows that _he knows_ that something’s up. 

“Impressive credentials,” Spock cuts in, leaning over to read the PADD.

“Thank you,” Brit— _Carol_ says uncertainly.

 “But redundant as I am back onboard the _Enterprise_ ,” Spock finishes, glancing accusingly at Jim.

“And _yet_ , the more the merrier,” Jim says before Spock as even finished. “Have a seat, Doctor.”

Carol looks grateful and takes a seat next to him. Neither of them say a single word as the shuttle takes off.

* * *

 

_“What Admiral’s daughter?”_

* * *

 

“Carol Marcus.”

She stops, hands hovering over the console in front of her. “Did Mr. Spock—”

“Does it matter?” he interrupts, annoyance taking over his hurt.

Carol turns to face him. “I suppose not.” Her voice is soft. “Look I’m—”

“Later.” He shakes his head. “We have a situation.” _  
_

* * *

 

They’re rushing through the hallways together, him having explained everything to her. He still feels slightly shattered by how wrecked their relationship really is.

What hurts most of all is that it was _him_ that tore it apart.

Jim’s world is slowly but surely falling to pieces.

* * *

 

“Are the torpedoes in the weapons bay?” she asks briskly, glancing at him over her shoulder.

“Loaded and ready to fire,” he replies. “ _What_ are they?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I forged my transfer onto your ship to find out why—I do apologize for that by the way,” she adds, turning around to look at him. “If I’ve caused you any problems, I am sorry.”

Jim feels surprised. _She’s_ apologizing? 

“I’m Carol _Marcus_ ,” she says, holding out her hand.

Jim smiles. This is what they should have done in the first place.

“James Kirk,” he replies, as he’s always wanted to.

 “Torpedoes,” she reminds him, turning on her heel and taking off again. Jim feels vaguely out of his league as he follows her. 

* * *

 

“You’re much cleverer than your reputation suggests, Captain Kirk,” she fires at him, before turning and entering the shuttle. 

If the comment had been made a year ago Jim would have thought it harmless teasing, but right he wasn’t so sure.

“I have a reputation?” he says, instead of replying snidely.

“Yes you do,” she informs him, messing with the consol. “I’m a friend of Christine Chapel.”

Oh. _Oh no_.

Jim feels a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Christine was a topic he frankly would rather avoid right now, especially with Carol.

“Ah yes, Christine,” he says, holding back a wince. “How is she?”

“Transferred to the outer frontier to be a nurse. She’s much happier _now_.”

“That’s good,” he replies, following her.

“You have no idea who I’m talking about, do you?”

“What—what are we doing in here?” he says, changing the uncomfortable subject.

“Is this shuttle prepped to fly?”

“Of course it is.”

“Would you please turn around?”

Jim blinks, nonplused. “Why?”

Carol looks at him. “Just turn around.”

* * *

 

Jim feels slightly offended as he sits in his chair, listening to Bones flirt with Brit—Carol.

Carol has literally no reason to be mad at him right now. It isn’t as if he _meant_ to turn around—it had been one of those conversations where it felt _polite_ to retain eye contact—and even if he _had_ it wasn’t as if it was anything he hadn’t seen.

Jim somehow feels bringing this up would further annoy Carol.

“Doctor McCoy, may I remind you that you aren’t there to flirt?” Jim interrupts, feeling pissy as Bones says something about a beautiful woman and a deserted planets.

As the conversation continues to go places that Jim would rather it not, Sulu turns and gives him an amused look. Jim almost tells him to shove off.

Then everything goes downhill.

“Sir, the torpedo has armed itself!”

“30 seconds until detonation!”

“Beam them back _right now_!”

“Transporter cannot differentiate between Doctor McCoy and the torpedo. We cannot beam one back without the other.”

Pure panic floods Jim’s system. He is about to lose his best friend and his…whatever Carol actually was to him. And he can’t, he can’t lose someone he cares about again, especially not right now, not so soon after Pike, it would be too much, it would _kill_ him. 

“Doctor Marcus, can you disarm it?” Jim barks, trying to keep himself professional, but failing miserably.

 _“I’m trying, I’m_ trying _,”_ she mutters, voice only slightly calmer than his.

“ _Jim, get her the hell outta here_ ,” Bones orders.

 _“Beam me back and he dies! Just let me do it!”_ Carol shouts.

Jim has never felt so torn in his life. There was a chance, a very slim chance that Carol could actually do this, pull through, but if she couldn’t…if she _failed_ …

This was not a gamble Jim was willing to take.

“Standing by to transport Doctor Marcus on your command, Sir,” a voice breaks him out of his horrified silence as the countdown grows smaller and smaller.

Carol swears loudly.

Then…

 “Deactivation successful, Captain,” Spock’s calm, mechanical voice brings Jim out of his haze.

Jim feels his knees buckle slightly as his adrenaline saps. “Doctor McCoy, are you alright?” he rasps over the intercom. “Bones!” he snaps, as his friend doesn’t answer.

“Jim…you’re gonna wanna see this.”

* * *

 

“Permission to come on the Bridge.” Her hair is a windswept disaster and her cheeks are flushed from running.

“Doctor Marcus…”

Before he can finish she’s bounded up next to him. “He’s gonna catch up to us and when he does the only thing that’s gonna stop him destroying this ship is _me_ ,” she fires off so fast that if it were anyone but him, it would have been impossible to keep up.

“You have to let me talk to him,” she finishes.

“Carol…we’re at _warp_ , he can’t catch up to us,” Jim says, trying to calm his pounding heart.

“Yes he _can_. He’s been developing a ship that has advanced warp capabilities and—”

“Captain!” a voice interrupts.

Jim and Carol jump slightly.

“I’m getting a reading I don’t understand,” Sulu says, looking both awed and terrified.

* * *

 

This isn’t happening. It’s impossible, this _can’t_ , literally _can’t_ be happening. Somehow Carol has been spirited away from the—relative—safety of the _Enterprise_ and onto _his_ ship. Jim tries to calm himself. It’s her father, her _father_. Surely even Admiral Marcus wouldn’t harm his only living daughter.

* * *

 

The look on Brit’s face before she was beamed away will haunt Jim for years to come.

* * *

 

He tries to convince himself that he’s boarding the _Vengeance_ is to capture Marcus and stop him from destroying Jim’s crew.

Somehow it has more to do with Carol than anything.

* * *

 

“Are you alright?”

Their eyes meet across the darkened Bridge. There’s something in hers that he’s never seen before, it goes beyond affection or any emotion he’s seen in them. It’s something closer to admiration or respect.

“Yes, Captain.”

* * *

 

He’s going to kill Khan. Kill him with his own bare hands.

The _Enterprise_ is falling through space rapidly towards Earth. They’re going to crash, going to _die_ if someone doesn’t do something about it right now.

It’s his worst nightmare come true. His Crew dying under his watch. His friends dying while he watches unable to help. _Her_ dying when he could have saved her.

“The housings are misaligned, there’s no way we can redirec’ the power ta save her!” Scotty says, bringing Jim out of his panic. “This ship’s dead, Sir. She’s gone.”

And there it was. That moment of clarity where Jim finally knew what he had to do. He could only pray he had the strength to do it.

“No she’s not.”

* * *

 

He thinks of _her_ when he climbs. But not just her, of everything. Every missed opportunity, every regret from his mom to Sam to Pike to _her_.

If dying is what makes this right then he’ll do it gladly. The realization that it’s _him_ who is the most dispensable person on this ship is devastating, but it only hardens his resolve to keep on going.

* * *

 

In his final moments, Spock of all people is with him. It’s kind of comforting actually, because Spock has always been the calm one, the rational one, the detached one, so if anyone can get him through this, can stop this unnatural fear he’s feeling, it’s him right?

As Jim’s world dims and his strength goes out, he realizes that the Vulcan is _crying_.

He almost laughs. He ruins everything he touches.

* * *

 

He’s dead. And then he’s not.

It’s rather confusing and disorienting to be honest, but Jim supposes if anyone can come back from the dead, it’s him.

Actually Jim had nothing to do with it, it was all Bones and Spock who defied death itself to bring him back, and it’s a debt that he will never be able to repay, not for as long as he lives, but the two of them look so _relieved_ so overjoyed that he’s alive, that he’s alright, that Jim really thinks that they don’t care about debts and whatnot.

He wonders if they know what dying has done to him.

* * *

 

It’s kind of poetic really. Jim met her over a drink—a cheap bottle of beer in a crowded hallway—and now it all comes to full circle with one.

He finds himself in a filthy, crowded bar, as far away from Starfleet Headquarters as he can manage, with a glass of Andorian Whiskey in hand.

He’s grateful, no really he is, that his Crew considers him important enough to them to bring him back, but that didn’t erase the fact that he had _died_. And not just flat lined or stopped breathing. Actually _died_.

He had died and then he hadn’t. It was impossible, completely totally 100% impossible, but absolutely true and Jim just didn’t know how to deal with that, because no matter how afraid he had been _of_ dying, he’d been ready, oh so ready to die for his beloved ship and the crew he had so foolishly put in danger for the sake of revenge.

But he had died and made Spock cry and completely destroyed Bones and even wrecked Uhura who barely even liked him and upset the rest of his crew and like idiots they had fought for him, fought against death itself to bring him back.

And now he’s back from the dead with no idea how to deal with the reality that he had _actually died_ or the realization that there were people out there besides Bones who actually cared whether or not he was dead or the fact that he’s responsible for the deaths of half of his crew and at least million civilians. 

He is going to get drunk to his eyeballs and jump off a bridge or something similarly stupid if someone didn’t stop him.

Jim half expects Bones to show up any minute and drag him out of there.

Then he remembers that Bones is being debriefed (interrogated) on Khan’s blood serum He could lose his medical license with the stunt he pulled bringing Jim back to life.

Jim takes another swig of his drink.

And quite promptly chokes on it.

A pair of familiar blue eyes meet his.

“What’s a good lookin’ guy doing in a place like this?” she asks sadly, as she sits down next to him.

“What’s the proper response to that?” he replies softly, gazing into her troubled blue eyes.

Her eyes flicker down to his lips. She hesitates slightly, leaning forward and then pulling back. Maybe it’s the alcohol or perhaps it’s the realization that nothing can get worse than it already has, because he finds himself once again plunging over the precipice, risking it all for something he’s wanted more than anything in his life.

Jim crosses the distance between the two and kisses her.

* * *

 

They’re lying in bed together, fully clothed, hands entwined, staring up at the ceiling. Neither have said a word in the past hour, and Jim knows he needs to say _something_ , figure out where they are, what they’re going to do, if—

“You’re thinking too loudly,” she says with a smile in her voice.

“I want you on the _Enterprise_ ,” he blurts out.

Carol sits up and stares down at him, eyes wide. “What?”

“I…look Carol. Brit. I know I’m well…as you would say, _rubbish_ at this.” He looks down at their hands. “And I know it’s hard to believe when I say that I’m _sorry_ about everything. But…I want this. I want _you_.”

“James.” Her eyes are watery.

“I know you don’t think I can stay committed to one person. Hell,” he runs a hand through his hair. “Until I met you I never even thought it was possible for me to love, but I’m willing to try if you are.”

Carol looks down. “Jim. I have something to confess.”

He sits up. “Yes?”

“I’ve known who you are for a long time. And not…not just after the Narada,” she says, still not meeting his eyes.

“What…you…” He blinks up at her. “How did you know? I never told you…”

She gives him another Look. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out. You mentioned your Mum was Chief Engineer on the _Enterprise_ at one point and then when you mentioned an anniversary and then the Maru and…it wasn’t that hard to piece together,” she finishes miserably.

“Why didn’t you tell me who _you_ were?” he asks, feeling wary.

Carol shrugs, biting her lip. “It never came up and I didn’t know if you’d run once you found out whose daughter I was and I…” she stops and then laughs. “We’re really a mess, aren’t we?”

Jim gives a small smile. “I’m _always_ going to be a bit of a mess,” he admits. “And I don’t…can you…”

“Perhaps we should start over,” she suggests. She grins like she did when he met her in the hallway four years ago. “I’m Carol Marcus. Are Finals traumatizing you?”

“Jim Kirk. And no they’re not, just my dormmate.”

She smiles. He laughs. It’s a start. 

 

* * *


End file.
